Just Rome'n Around

Matthias Batemus - Sunday

We left the city of Florence with great haste as we had to catch a train to the well known and popular city – some of you might have heard of it – Rome. We took a nice train ride, mostly uninterrupted, except for a guy coming around asking for money for the poor. He spoke completely in Italian, and we shot him some confused glares before some Italian girls we were sitting with translated him. But thankfully the guy had given up and walked off before we had a chance to make a definitive answer. A shame really because we were going to give him Zach’s 200 euro note that he has stowed away for a rainy day.

We arrived in Rome and it was a beautiful day – the sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky. So, we did what most people would do in Rome on a nice day... stay inside our hotel room. Only thing was, we didn’t end up staying in our hotel room the first night. Oh no, there was a problem with our room and thus we had to stay in the hotel next door called The Windrose which, interestingly, took its grandiose emblem located in its regal foyer from the four elements. Ok, that wasn’t interesting at all. But what was interesting was when we took a walk down the street towards the Colosseum.

The colossal Colosseum closes at 3:30pm every day, so we didn’t go in today, but we walked around its circumference and in doing so, saw two dogs fighting – one was two times the size of the other. So we stayed and watched them fight for a while, satisfied that we were able to see a battle at the colosseum.

Anyway we walked back to our hotel and set out for dinner, at a crappy restaurant featuring a waiter who told us that it was “too early” to get our bill. Also it took ages to get our meals and it took around half an hour for our waiter to get the bill.

Zacheus Rafterius – Monday

We started today by heading to our real hotel, the Eurostars Domus Aurea, for breakfast. As we’d been forced into spending the first night into the adjacent hotel as they’d stuffed up our room, and the other hotel didn’t offer a full breakfast, I talked Matt into breakfasting back where there’d be bacon and eggs. We headed on up (the breakfast room was on the sixth floor, on a penthouse level with a nice view of the city) and, while the spread was quite nice and varied, the eggs were awful. They reeked of burning. After this, we bought daily Metro passes and headed down to the Colosseum. We paid our entry fee and went inside. It was fantastic. Just how it has survived the elements, natural disasters and marble raids is fascinating in itself.
We then were pleasantly surprised to find out that our Colosseum tickets let us into the nearby Roman Forum and the Palatine Hill. The forum was like the city centre; it had a civic centre, markets, and religious areas all in one. We took many photos with various ruins, and then headed up the Palatine Hill – the hill where, legend says, the founder of Rome (Romulus) killed his brother to become the first King of Rome. Legend also says that both were abandoned by their mother, and were raised by wolves.

After this, we caught the Metro and headed to Vatican City and St. Peter’s Basilica. It was epic wow. We spent half an hour in the Square taking pictures and just generally checking it out. We’re going to return tomorrow to do a tour of the Vatican Museums and the Basilica itself. After seeing the square, we walked to the Spanish Steps and photo’d. Then we found the Trevi Fountain, threw some coins in, and photo’d. Local legend says you throw one coin into the fountain over your opposite shoulder to return to Rome, two to meet a Roman, and three for Marriage. Matt and I both threw in one.

Then we found the Pantheon. It was majestic. Inside are the tombs of Vittorio Emanuelle II, the first King of a unified Italy, and the artist Raphael. The Pantheon forms a perfect circle in that it is both as high as it is wide. It was originally constructed as a place of Pagan worship but was consecrated as a place of Christian worship after the 7th century. After this we found the massive monument to Vittorio Emanuelle II – it was HUGE. The biggest monument to one mortal man I have ever seen in my life.

We returned back to base, and went out for dinner, trying to find a new “regular” restaurant. We were unsuccessful.

Matthias Batemus - Tuesday

Tuesday. Not too many days left for our trip and already our feet are weary from the traversing of several plains around the city. Today was no exception as we were heading to a totally new country – the smallest country in the world with a population of 900. Vatican City. We already got some spoilers yesterday, but today we had our guided tour to the Vatican Museum, Sistine Chapel and St Peters. We took the metro – which always seems to be in peak hour and there are never enough lines – and when we got to the Vatican, it was raining.

Anyway we started our tour off in a court yard with a 2000 year old pine cone. Close to this was a large golden spherical statue depicting the world. In the centre of this, as if piercing through the Earth’s core, was a church. I can’t remember whether religion is the most important thing or whether it’s the centre of the Earth, but either way, their point was obvious – Religion: Serious Business. Everything was serious here. We took a stroll through another courtyard with some awesome sculptures of Apollo and other copies of Bronze statues that had melted during the time of the fires started by Nero. One particular statue caught our eye – a dramatic one of a guy and his two children being attacked by Sea Serpents. One of the boys was already dead, while the other was fighting them off his father, who had just been bitten. Melodramatic stuff. Next we walked inside and looked at some of the other famous sculptures including an original bronze work depicting Hercules. It wasn’t that great, but because it was an original bronze statue that somehow survived the fires and being melted down by the ‘money hungry corporations’ it proudly stands in the Vatican Museum for all to see. In the centre of the room was Nero’s bathtub which was sculpted from a single rock. No pictures could do this justice – trust me, this bath tub was bigger than most people’s bathrooms.
We bailed on this room and headed through a few corridors, getting ever so closer to the Sistine Chapel. On the way, we were told that the Catholic Church were very much against nudity in statues and other works of art, and works of art that featured nude males either; 1. Had their junk broken off, or 2. Had their junk covered up later with a leaf. Either way, the Catholic Church are to blame for the desecration of many a hundred works of art. Try getting into the museum in Florence today and chiselling off David’s Dong. They wouldn’t have any of that. Thank...God?

Anyway, we saw some nice tapestries depicting the resurrection of Jesus and the death of Julius Caesar. Some tapestries gave the illusion of a stone or table swivelling across as you walked left to right of the tapestry. This would have been difficult to weave. Next we walked down a hallway 160 metres long. It was remarkable – golden and featured paintings that looked 3D but were not at all! Ah...the ole’ optical illusion trick again. It was a shame that they had to line the entire hall with boring maps.

At the end, we saw the apartment where one Pope lived. Lining the walls were a range of brilliant Fresco paintings by Raphael. As we went further along, we saw a masterful piece by Raphael which featured a whole range of colourful characters – Plato and Aristotle in the centre, debating each other, to the left – Alexander the Great. To the right was Raphael poking his head out amongst the others. In the centre, writing on a podium, was Michelangelo who was the only one wearing boots. Apparently, when he was working on the Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo didn’t shower or remove his boots for the four years he worked on it. Michelangelo was originally not going to be included in the painting, as Raphael was jealous of him and considered him his rival, and was happy when Michelangelo was forced into painting as it meant the eventual death of his career. It was not until he walked into the Sistine Chapel and looked at Michelangelo’s masterpiece that he admired him and included him in the painting as a way to express his gratitude for his marvellous work.

Yes, the Sistine Chapel was that great. It was one of the greatest works I have ever seen in my life. It’s amazingly atmospheric (apart from the guards yelling at you to be quiet and not to take pictures, as well as a P.A. announcement requesting the same thing that kind of sounds like communist propaganda in the Soviet Union – we took pictures anyway just so you know) and it is absolutely stunning. It will take your breath away. In the centre is the most famous ‘Creation of Man’ where God (in a human brain with a group of humans that he is just about to create) is reaching out almost touching Adam, probably creating him, or he has just been created. This is highly debated. The rest of the works depict the rest of Genesis. Apparently Michelangelo was not a painter, and the pope requested that he was to repaint the roof of the Sistine Chapel with the twelve apostles. Michelangelo said that he would repaint it only if he could do whatever he wanted. The pope agreed, and now we have this. Botticelli added some paintings of stuff on the walls, which weren’t that great compared to Michelangelo’s work. Apparently Michelangelo was asked to come back and paint the wall near the podium as “no one was paying attention to the sermons, and always admiring the ceiling.” So he came back for six years and painted more. Apparently someone criticised his prominent nudity in the painting, so he painted them in hell, completely nude with a serpent around his body biting of his junk. Looks like MC Angelo had a sense of humour. He also painted himself as the skinned alive body, as if to describe how he felt ‘skinned alive’ after spending ten years working in the Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo sometimes makes you wonder – Leonardo who? We also saw the famous ‘Thinker’ sculpture, just before we entered the Sistine Chapel. I did not know that statue was featured here, and that it was so small.

We exited the Sistine Chapel and made our way to St Peters Cathedral – the largest cathedral in the world. They didn’t mind showing that off either, with markings on the ground indicating how far other cathedrals stack up in length. Surprisingly enough, you could take pictures. It just goes to show how illogical other cathedrals and Basilicas’ are requesting you not to take any photos. I should mention that we were not allowed to take photos of one statue in the cathedral because there was a sermon going on well out of the way of where the statue was located. I took a photo sneakily and quickly enough so the angry guy who looked like Al Pacino didn’t spot me and wondered whether souvenir shops inside cathedrals would stop while a sermon was on because it would be disrespectful.

We walked over to the centre, where only the pope may sit, and looked underneath the cathedra. There was this church’s relic – the bones of St Peter – the first pope and one of the twelve apostles. Of course, you can’t see the bones, but apparently they are there because archaeologists went down there one year and found bones that didn’t have feet. They would have unmistakably been St Peter as he was crucified upside down and his feet cut off, and they wouldn’t have buried his feet with the rest of his body. Underneath the cathedral was where the popes are buried. We thought we’d check that out...when in Rome right? We decided against climbing to the top of the cathedral due to the length of the queue. On our way out we looked for the Swiss Guards, but because it was raining, they were wearing raincoats. Pretty lame, but what can you do? Kill one of them and de-robe them in front of everybody? Seems pretty dangerous to me.

Now for the reason why there are only two metro lines in the city. Because apparently if you dug underneath the city, you would find heaps of ruins – 65% of Rome hasn’t been excavated. Apparently when houses burned down, the Romans didn’t do the most logical thing and clear away the rubble, they actually built on top of the rubble and used that as a basement. Apparently that is why the Pantheon has only one step up to get into it, compared to it having a lot more steps in the past. Further proof that Italians are stupid, and that the Roman Empire could never last under such unintelligent people. That’s my view anyway.

Zacheus Rafterius – Wednesday

We headed out today on our Naples & Pompeii tour. Rising at 6:30am, we were disappointed that we would miss out on the breakfast that the hotel provided as it was too early. On the voucher for the tour that I’d booked, it said if you wanted a free hotel pickup, to call the phone number on the day before your tour. I didn’t do this, because when I looked at a map, the place the tours left from was only a short walk from the hotel (maybe 10 minutes max) so I thought, instead of us waiting for an hour before the tour departed, we could just walk there 20 minutes before. So we headed out at 7am, to find a tour bus waiting out the front to pick us up. It seemed I had put the name of the hotel into the website tour form when I had booked it months earlier.

We caught the first bus to where the tours set off from, and boarded a second bus. Unfortunately this second bus was almost full, there were only a couple of seats left, and we had to sit in front of a noisy American fuck. He decided that I needed to listen to whatever he was listening to with his portable listening device by turning the volume to way past the safety levels recommended by the Department of Defence. And when he wasn’t listening to it, he was talking arrogantly about some American baseball team to his equally annoying American friend behind him, and what they need to do in order to win this year. The guy was obviously an expert.
The tour bus made its way towards Naples from Rome. It was a three hour trip, and about every half an hour, the tour guide would come on the microphone for about a minute, and say “There’s some trees over there” or “There’s a castle here”, which would be followed by the exact same spiel in Russian, and then in Japanese. Thank God there wasn’t any Spaniards on board, because it would have been spewed out in Spanish too. We stopped along the way for a “pit stop”, and then continued on, Naples bound.

We drove first past the “old” part of the city, the harbour, and where most of the people live. It was quite a dive, to be perfectly honest. Rubbish was overflowing on the streets, the buildings looked like they were about to collapse, and it was just generally quite ugly to look at. I’m sure if it hadn’t have been a drizzly day, it would have had a nice view of Sorrento and Capri off the coast (as the tour guide assured us). We then headed past the “new” part of the city, which actually had skyscrapers and was recently architected by a Japanese architect (which they must have repeated about five times). Just so you know, each time something was said it was then translated into Russian and Japanese – got annoying? It also means they got away with giving us 1/3rd of the information that other, full-English tours would have provided. Bastards.

After this, we went to a Coral factory. Why? I have no idea. Most of the coral isn’t even collected here; it’s from Tahiti and the Bahamas. But they carve patterns into the side of it for some reason.

Me: “Why do you carve the coral here?”

Them: “Well, because the coral is here – can’t you see it? And... we’re coral carvers. So it makes sense”.

Me: “You know, that really doesn’t make sense. Why don’t you go to where the coral is collected?”

Them: “Because I’m here?”

You get the idea. Stupid people.

We then went to Pompeii for lunch. Just the base of it for now. Lunch was included in the tour price, and it was pretty decent albeit small, and they charged a fortune for drinks (three euro for a can of coke – that’s like 5.50 Australian dollars). There was an American family sitting opposite Matt and I, and I kid you not, they are the most annoying people on the earth. This woman was extremely offended that her spaghetti didn’t come with any eggplant on it, and had no problem announcing it to her family, to our table, and finally to one of the waiters. I would have loved to break an eggplant in her face, if you know what I mean. I would have given her mine, but the only thing I wanted to give her was some hurt.

Matt and I bought a couple o’ souvenirs from a nearby shop, and then we headed to the ancient city of Pompeii on the mountainside. It was pretty amazing, and I’m really glad we did it despite the rest of the day being mediocre at best. We spent two hours looking around the ancient city with the guide showing us a typical house, a rich family’s house, a wine store, a brothel, a bathing area for men only, a temple and finally a basilica. The most amazing sight was probably the brothel; on the walls, it had erotic frescoes that were perfectly preserved, sort of like a “menu” – the man would pick which position he so desired by pointing at it on the wall. The beds looked quite uncomfortable though – they were made out of solid rock. Bedrock. Get it?

We walked down the mountain, and waited for the tour bus to pick us up. Pompeii is filled with stray dogs that people leave when they don’t want them anymore, so Matt and I befriended a dog which we named many things, but among the most prominent were Russell, Failhound, Gnarls Barkley, Barkey McBite, Barkey McDog, Bitey McBark, Russel Barker, and Wolf.

We jumped back on the bus, and restarted the three hour journey back to Rome. By this time it was dark, and the journey was relatively uneventful.

Florence'd

ZACH: Florence: The Seg-way

Started today pumped for our first full Florentine day and because we had booked a SEGWAY tour for 10am. Yes, that’s right. Your lovable heroes were about to board the most advanced form of individual singulate electric transport known to man (and possibly woman). We raced down to the small Piazza next to the Duomo where the Segway Tour place was located. It was a small close with a couple of builders who were repairing a building, one of which looked strangely like Al Pacino. After waiting for fifteen minutes, the attractive Italian tour guide turned up. She informed us that we would be the only two on the tour for that day – Matt, and me, and her, on Segways.

She busted out the Segways. They were furious looking beasts, able to consume the weaker form of man. Fortunately Matt and I are near perfect examples of the male specimen, thus we handled the Segway as if it were Alexander’s Bucephalus, or Aslan from the Chronicles of Narnia. In all seriousness, it was exceedingly easy to drive after a ten minute orientation session. It’s all in the feet. I’d explain it to you but... that might ruin your future first session with a Segway, and you must do this. This is non-optional. By reading this sentence you hereby agree to try a Segway before you die.

Matt and I did figures of eight and small circles around the close with the tour guide watching on. After a few minutes, she told us to encircle the block, which we did. Then we returned back to base to sign a form releasing them from liability should we kill ourselves en-Segway. Then we put on our headsets so we could hear her talk while doing the 38-40 miles per hour the Segways were limited to, and then we set off.

The tour guide informed us that Segways were still a strange sight in Florence despite her tour company operating for five years. She told us today, in Florence, we were celebrities. She was not wrong. You would be amazed (or perhaps not so) at the number of heads a Segway turns. Especially the Japanese. You’d think for a people that created a car that can park itself, ASIMO the lovable Artificial Intelligence robot, and the Pokéball, they would be used to mind blowing electronic technology, but apparently not so. We were photographed and stared at all day. Our tour guide told us to keep smiling.

On the tour, we stopped at the Duomo, which was quite majestic though we had seen it previously that morning while walking to the Segway tour. We then stopped outside Florence’s first consecrated Church (which was unfinished), a couple of other churches with works by Michaelangelo on them, the Piazza Della Republica where the government offices and the “centre” of Florence was, the Uffuzi (Italy’s largest art gallery), and the Cathedral at Santa Croce where Michaelangelo and Galileo are entombed. We also stopped outside Dante’s house (the guy who unified the Italian language and wrote The Divine Comedy). Turns out his wife and his mistress both lived on either side of him – convenient genius or madness? You decide.

Upon retiring from our Segway adventure, we walked straight to the nearest internet cafe and, among other important internet activities (such as Facebook and MSN), researched the approximate cost of a Segway. Matt tells me it’s around ten thousand dollars back home. Bargain. Matt has already set up his savings plan with Westpac, in an account named “Segway Fund”.

We ate dinner at an epic restaurant (epic as it was exceedingly cheap compared to, oh I don’t know, everywhere that’s not McDonalds) that was conveniently located just down the street from us. As it was so cheap, I ordered a first and second course. The first course was huge. I was expecting it to be tiny like, oh I don’t know, everywhere that’s not McDonalds. So I had to down a huge plate o’ spaghetti and then a huge pizza. It went down, but there were breaks.

MATT: Florence Continued

You know you’re in a better city than Bologna when there aren’t police and army vehicles constantly driving around the main piazza in town. And you have one of the largest cathedrals in the world that isn’t in a city known for its strong inclination for homosexual activity. That’s Florence for you. A wonderful city known for the housing of Michelangelo’s famous statue of David, the Birth of Venus painting, the home of Dante – creator of the Italian language and where the Mona Lisa was most likely painted by Leonardo Da Vinci. It’s safe to say that a lot of stuff happened here, and it’s such a shame that for most of its most memorable assets, you are unable to take pictures. More on this later.

We started our day with a trip to the museum where Michelangelo’s David was located. When we got in, we were extremely disappointed that we could not take a photo with the gargantuan five metre high statue, that we sneakily took one anyway. It was an amazing statue – it is considered the most handsome, most perfect sculpture, and that there is no point looking at any other statues because of this. I probably agree. As we walked up and down the aisles, we saw some other sub-par statues and some unfinished works by Michelangelo. You know you are an exceptional artist or sculptor when a museum proudly displays your works that are only close to 25% complete. I found a painting by Mussini featuring a dying Leonardo Da Vinci in the arms of Francis I to be a brilliant and emotional piece. Everything else was simple, crude paintings dating back to the 1200-1300s. Nothing we were all that interested in.

Next we hit up a cathedral with the tombs of Galileo, Michelangelo and Dante among others. Unfortunately, they were refurbishing Dante’s ‘tomb’ (or destroying it even more, seeing as the Florentines seem to hate him). There was an organ being tuned which echoed out over the cathedral and this created a rather eerie and unsettling atmosphere for all concerned.

Next we set our sights on the Uffizi museum. We had no idea what to expect and what was featured in the gallery, but we decided to check it out anyway. Unfortunately, you couldn’t take pictures in here either, which made me really upset. Apparently, if Leonardo Da Vinci didn’t take the Mona Lisa painting to France himself, then it would have ended up in Florence, and probably the Uffizi gallery, which would have been a real shame as no one would be able to take a picture of it! I tell you one thing, as much as we hate the French, they know how to run a damn gallery! Anyway, we saw the popular Birth of Venus (I think it’s called). We also saw a few works by Leonardo Da Vinci – one entitled Annunciation featuring remarkably detailed backgrounds and strangely an elongated lectern. Apparently Leo Da Vinci intended the painting to be viewed from the bottom right corner.

After we spent twenty minutes navigating the halls attempting to exit the seemingly infinite museum (and walking past the endless amount of souvenir stores along the way) we stopped for lunch at a place that wasn’t McDonalds! It was a pub that advertised a meal and a drink for 8 Euro or 2 meals and a drink for 11 Euro. What a bargain. The only drawback was that the meals available to Zach on the 11 Euro board were written entirely in Italian, and he had no idea what he was ordering. So he asked the waiter, who looked strikingly similar to Al Pacino, and he wasn’t much help either. One of the meals he described was ‘egg sauce.’ Sounding so tempting to Zach that he chose that meal with enthusiasm. I stuck with the 8 euro meal and drink, which was a pizza. Zach got his meal, and it was egg in sauce. Yeah, egg in sauce.

Next we decided to cross the gross green river, and walk up a large hill to Michelangelo piazza. From there we had an exceptional view of the city in all of its wonderful glory. There we saw the people on the Duomo, and felt sorry for them paying 8 euro to go to the top and stare at buildings blocking the view. We then headed back to the hotel and got ready to venture out to the club – Space Electronic to experience the best nightlife the Florentines had to offer. But first, we had to get dinner from our ‘usual’ restaurant (after enjoying our meal there the night previous). We decided to indulge in some red wine – Chianti Banfi 2008. It was quite the tasty beverage. After downing some gnocchi and pasta, we walked over to the nightclub to see if it was open. We walked down this dirty alleyway and Zach was scared that he was going to get knifed like jail, but we pulled through ok, but the club wasn’t open yet. Clubs open at midnight in Europe, unlike Australia where they just open at 10pm and make most of their money on alcohol. We went back to the hotel and played some Warcraft 3, then set out at 11:30pm. The cover charge was 16 euro, but Zach wasn’t too fussed when he saw that a world-renowned DJ, GiGi D’Agostino, who Zach admired would be mixing. We went up to the dance floor and saw the man himself, in what appeared to be a pimp suit. The only thing missing was a pimp cane. He played a whole range of Italian favourites, including a dance remix of Conte (Time To Say Goodbye). Zach said he could die happy knowing that it had been remixed to accommodate for the younger generations desire to dance to operatic music. Despite the fact that no one seemed to be dancing, they had some flashing wand like things they were waving around like fairies as they bounced up and down. These would be considered weapons back home. Anyway, we were satisfied when the DJ played his most famous song (I’ll Fly With You) and we watched people hum the melody lines to the Black Eyed Peas ‘I’ve Got a Feeling.’ We headed back to the hotel but we were stopped by another tourist who was looking for the river. We told him where it was but he continued, adding a swear word in as an adjective. We told him we were Australian, after which he did not believe our directions. He was probably a stupid Frenchman – which is why he said ‘pardon my French.’

ZACH: Pisa

Our last day in Florence. Except it wasn’t to be our last day in Florence because for most of the day we were going to spend in PISA. The Italian city that has a broken tower, a church, and nothing else. You may have heard of the Leaning Tower of Pisa? If not, go back to primary school. We set off on our train Pisabound. The trip took about an hour, and when we jumped off the train, we found a map of the city and worked out how to get to the Leaning Tower. Basically, it was “walk down one long street, cross a bridge, continue walking, and you’ll see it”. We walked through Pisa which we likened to both Bologna and Venice – Bologna in that it was kind of a standard Italian city without a whole lot to do, and Venice in the buildings. The buildings were very Venetian-esque, in that they fitted together as if there was zero town planning done (which there probably wasn’t) and each building was in a completely different colour and style to the next.

After walking for about twenty minutes, we caught sight of the Leaning Tower. It was pretty awesome. Dodging the fake watch and bag sellers on the street, we made our way in front of the tower and took some pictures. Then we bought tickets to scale its mighty staircase. FIFTEEN EURO? What the Fork? What a Pisa Crap (Haha, get it?) That’s almost thirty bucks to climb it, which is double what it cost to get into the Louvre or the Galleria dell Academia yesterday to see David. But we bit the bullet and paid the money. We still had time before our 12:30 climbing session, so we walked the market street, taking in the hundreds of stalls all selling the same tiny leaning towers, leaning mugs, and boxer shorts with a leaning tower facade in front of where the genitalia would be located inside the shorts. Classy.

It then started to rain, so we made like “California Dreaming” and ran for the Church. It was a pretty big church. There was a dead Saint in it and everything. We looked around, took photos, and then sat down and waited for our time to climb the tower. The time came, we booked my bag into the bag holding place (which, surprisingly, didn’t charge to take our bag – you can’t climb the tower with a bag, and I thought they’d try and rip more money off me – surprisingly it was free – I say free, but I did pay fifteen euro for a ticket). And then, we climbed it. It was awesome climbing it – a lot easier than some of the other places we’ve climbed, like St. Pauls in London or the Tower in Bologna which had tiny wooden steps. These were 400 big marble steps and were quite easy to scale. We made it to the top and took some rather epic pictures. And I phoned home, which gave both Sam and Kathleen quite a buzz I believe, to receive a call from the top of the Leaning Tower. I’ll invoice them both for my voice and associated telephony costs upon my arrival back home.

We descaled, demounted, and dewalked down the tower, had some lunch at Micky Dee’s, and then walked back to the train, where we had what can only be described as the nosiest train trip of our lives. To begin, the train was extremely loud – it was as if it was one of the famous Steam Trains of Maryborough which continuously cart the large crop of Husked Corn out of that tiny and uncivilized town. I actually felt like I was on the outside of the train, it was that loud. And then, part way through the journey, a couple of enraged African-Italian passengers had a furious screaming match with two of the train company employees, over what I can only imagine is a ticket issue. We had no idea what they were saying – only that these were some of the angriest people I have ever heard screaming in my life. Matt recorded some of the outrage on his phone. We both feared for our lives. At the next station, the police were waiting to take them both away.

Venice, Bologna and Rome

Z. Layne Raftery - How to Conquer Bologna in an Hour and a Half (and make an American Quilt)

We awoke to a grand Venetian morning for our last day in the Veneto. Trudging up the now familiar staircase in the hotel complex, we broke the fast at a bright and early 7:30am and made our way back to Arsenale ferry terminal for the 40 minute ferry ride to the station, up the Grand Canal. It was forking cold, though it was good to actually take a ride the whole way up the canal and take in the sights that we missed from the shore. Venice is dirty, grimy, mouldy, uneven, collapsing, decaying, smelly, broken, old, and decrepit. It’s also one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever visited.

We jumped on our train (first time on the actual Eurostar) bound for Bologna. Why Bologna, I hear you ask? To be honest I have no idea. I can’t remember why. I just looked at a map of Italy, saw it there in bold, capital letters, put it to the Board (Matt) and then booked a hotel there. I didn’t look at what there was to do there, and knew nothing about it, except a guess I held that Bolognese sauce was invented there. I was right. Bolognese sauce was invented here.We jumped off the train and into a cab at Bologna Centrale, one of Italy’s most important rail hubs as it’s at the crossroads between Milan, Venice, and Florence. It took five minutes to find the hotel in the cab, which was good because we feared it would be extremely expensive. It wasn’t so. Catching a cab also gave Batesy’s suitcase a much deserved rest (one of his two wheels has gotten stuck, and is dragging along the ground slowly decaying, while the other wheel valiantly continues its rolly quest).

The Savhotel was an epic hotel, as Matt put it, like a Hilton in the middle of Ipswich. The area in which it is built is a dive – it looked like the ghetto or the Bronx. But the hotel was fantastic. And free WiFi! What more could you ask for?We checked in, did some interwebs-ing, and looked up some stuff to do in Bologna. Well, the list of stuff to do in Bologna is relatively short. Once you’re in the main part of town, the city is quite pretty. All of the buildings have the same red-tile roofing which makes for a great uniformity. But other than that, it’s quite a boring, somewhat sleepy city.

We walked first to the Neptune Fountain, which was pretty cool, and featured many Roman Gods with water squirting from their nipples. Matt decided to copy their pose for a photo. Then we went to the Duomo (Cathedral). Although it was closed, until 3pm. As it was 2:30pm we walked around the block, and checked out the many stores that were also closed. I figured some kind of siesta was enforced here. Returning to the Duomo at 3pm, we checked out its insides. It’s the 5th largest Cathedral in the world, and was beautiful. It was going to be the biggest (bigger than St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican), but the Pope hundreds of years ago wasn’t a fan of this idea and commissioned a university to be built right next to it so that it couldn’t be expanded. Bam.After this, we walked to the Two Towers – two leaning towers in Bologna that stand together. It cost three euro to climb the taller one of the two, and we thought what the hell – why not? Not like we had anything else to do in this town. We climbed it, it was exhausting (even moreso carrying the Lonely Planet guide to Italy), and took in the view from the top. It was epic. Hundreds and hundreds of red-tile buildings in every direction. We photo’d it.

Upon descending the tower, we returned to the hotel, where we relaxed for a bit, confident we had conquered Bologna. For dinner, we both decided to eat something Bolognese. The hotel offered this at its restaurant, and so we ate there. It cost 23 euro, or roughly 36 AUD, so we were expecting something huge. The tagliatelle Bolognese that was delivered to us was not huge – though it was delicious, it was small. We ate, satisfied for taste but not quantity, and asked for the bill. The guy told us that another course was coming. Out came another plate, of cold cuts and cheese. I have no idea what cheese it was, but it was amazing. After downing this, our want was quenched. We retired to the room, where I read a little about Florence before collapsing from exhaustion after completing a huge day of Bolognese activities.

M.G.R. Bate - Four to the Flor-ence

We awoke to a frosty snowy morning in Bologna. Such a dismal sight was unwelcome in our humble hearts as we were required to carry our large, voluminous bags two or so kilometres down the uncovered footpaths to the train station. Yes, we were about to leave the gay capital of Italy for the prosperous and more heterosexual community of Florence. But first, it was off to the breakfast buffet. And oh what a buffet it was! Bacon, scrambled eggs and breakfast sausage (and I’m not talking about the kind of breakfast sausage you get in Bologna after waking up in a strangers bed after a night at the discotheque – A Hoy!). It made the Astor Quest’s selection of breakfast look like...well...the Ass-tor quest (if it didn’t already because of its small shoebox like room).

After breakfast, we booked a day tour of Florence for the following day. The tour takes place on a Segway. Yeah, you read correctly, and in case you didn’t read, I’ll repeat in capital letters: A SEGWAY. But more on that tomorrow. First we had to make it through the drizzling snow to our train station two kilometres away.

We made it.

It was a short 40 minute train ride and we saw some remarkable sights. Within the space of ten minutes, we saw fields completely covered in snow to fields that were luscious and green without a single snowflake resting gently on the bosom of any blade of grass. We also had a creepy Italian dude sit near us, who kept looking at me in-between playing a game on his phone.We arrived at the platform in Florence, and Zach informed me that the hotel we are staying in is not too far from the train station. He was right. We checked in at around 10am, much to our delight. When we got in our room, it smelt like a Grandmother’s house. Basically, it reeked of old person smell. We quickly deduced - after discovering our room’s bathroom was larger than the rooms in the hostel we spent in London and Belfast put together – was in fact a disabled room. Well that solves the case of the smelly room. Conveniently, and unfortunately, our room is located right near the breakfast buffet room and reception. But on the plus side, we get a little seat thing in our room to help us into our wheelchairs. So it all evens out in the end.

After taking a well earned break to catch up on some blogging, we set off to find an internet cafe to locate our meeting point for the SEGWAY tour tomorrow, as our printed ticket did not give us the address. So we set off, did a little surfing, found the address and had a bite to eat. Next we set our sights to the Duomo, the number one thing to do in Italy, according to the Lonely Planet guide (which lists having a picnic in the top 25 things to do, and doesn’t even mention the colosseum. Thanks LP!). It’s the fourth largest cathedral in the world and it was mighty impressive. What’s more, they even allow you free entry and you can TAKE PICTURES. So much for that crappy cathedral in Venice that wouldn’t even let you talk quietly or take pictures – yet they had no problem selling you full access to the cathedral for 6 euro in total, and the loud sound of a cash register opening in the store, just opposite of the entrance. Cha-ching!

We found our meeting spot for tomorrow’s tour and walked around the streets for a little bit. We stopped into the free entry supermarket (yes! Free entry to the supermarket! I know! I couldn’t believe it myself. I was flabbergasted. Goodbye to the entry fees I have to pay to get into Woolworths at home! I know where I’m going to live!) and bought some 95 cent chips and some coke for dinner as our large breakfast was an adequate feast compared to the meagre shoe-laces that we had for breakfast everywhere else.

When in...Venice

The following was written yesterday - and is lagged by one day. Due to our lack of internet access, the following was unable to be posted on the date of writing and therefore has been posted on the following, adjacent day. Thank you for your time.

So it’s our last full day in Venice today, and it was time to say our goodbyes to the beautifully ugly dock city that we both loved so very much. We had a tour and gondola trip organised in the afternoon, and because we had experienced quite a lot of what the city had to offer over the past two days, we spent most of our time downloading the latest episode of Skins over an unprotected wifi network and basking in the warm glow of a sunny Venetian day.

We entered a number of shops that lined the dank and narrow alleyways of the gigantic wharf city to see what they had to offer in the way of souvenirs to satisfy the weary Australian traveller. Each one was littered with enough nooks and crannies to put Forest Lake markets to shame. Since it was Carnivale time, most of the stores were lined with glamorous masks to please anyone flirting with the idea of hosting a Masquerade ball party in the near future (and if you are, don’t bother, cause we didn’t buy any masks for anybody – they were far too expensive). Instead of buying anything at the petit stores, we felt it was necessary to make excellent use of the new and innovative system of ‘free entry’ into the store, something that is unfortunately absent from shops at home. Here in Venice, some stores granted you free unlimited viewing access to a range of on-hand stock, without any pressure to make a purchase. Isn’t that just wonderful?

So after we looked around the stores for FREE (because it is so innovative, I thought I’d mention it again...FREE) it was three o’clock and it was time to commence our informative and wonderfully navigated tour. Our first tour guide – Gretchen we shall call her (I don’t know if it was her real name, but Gretchen is a name that, to me, is synonymous with her position on the social hierarchy as ‘sea hag’) – she took us to the gondola stop for the start of the tour. There was no introduction, and because we had some dumb Italians who couldn’t speak any English at all on our tour, she had to speak in both English and Italian. So she was talking to the Italian bumpkins – one of whom looked like Al Pacino – and did not acknowledge any of the English speakers at all. So she just started walking and we naturally followed her.

So we made it to the gondola stop, and we hopped in a gondola with 2 god forsakenly annoying American tourists and their equally annoying baby. I don’t need to tell you that midway through the gondola ride, that god damn baby started crying about some god damn thing (as usual, something miniscule). When it cried for a longer period of time, I turned to Zach and he acknowledged my distress, and he knew that if that baby continued crying, then there would be a “Children Overboard” scandal in Venice...only this one will be real, and there will be only one child going into the river...and it’d be that baby. So the gondola ride was fantastic, and not gay at all like Zach originally mused. We went out through the Grande Canal and then through the small canal thoroughfares – the kind of thoroughfares that – if they were on land instead of water – you’d expect to get mugged and perhaps murdered in a fashion similar to Bruce Wayne’s parents in Gotham City at the beginning of Tim Burton’s Batman movie adaptation. The canal was so small, and most of the time we only just managed to squeeze through certain turns. The drivers are exceptionally skilled and avoided every possible collision with such precision. We sailed past a 5 star hotel that was on the canals, then we sailed all the way back, reaching the security of the gondola stop relatively dry and safely (can’t really speak for the baby though...).

Upon getting off the gondola, we were welcomed with a different tour guide to Gretchen. His name was Alphonse (again, I don’t know what his real name was, but to describe him, he sorta looked like Al Pacino). Anyway, Alphonse was a great help in giving us information about Venice that we DIDN’T NEED TO HEAR. He talked about how the town was built so poorly, that most of the buildings were rotting because of the way they were inadequately built, that towers were falling over and they have built these things to stop them from falling onto houses. He also talked about how they never get any water in summer and they rely on rain water for a lot of their clean water supplies. He also recommended we try a 13 euro sundae, which he excitedly stated “contained real bananas! What a bargain for only 13 euro.” Considering this in Australian dollars, this equates to roughly $26! In summary, this tour guide couldn’t give us a single explanation as to WHY Italians would be so stupid as to live on the water. In fact, he gave us 20 good reasons to NOT LIVE HERE. And I need to know. The Americans didn’t help either, asking irrelevant, stupid questions that were so frustratingly pointless that I won’t repeat them here because I’ll have a heart attack getting so angry about them, but mark my words they were annoying. Then the baby started crying, and I actually threw it in the canal. No kidding – I threw it into the dirty canal water where it died a horrible death by typhoid.

So, we decided to head back to Arsenalle, and have a bite to eat. We both got some nice filling pizza from a shop just around the corner from us, run by a lovely Italian family of Chinese people. Ironically, they worked in a pizza and pasta gig, but when we went in to pay for our meal, their family were sitting at a table and all they were eating was Chinese food. We had a walk, and saw a couple of people who looked strikingly similar to Al Pacino performing some excellent karaoke, before we ventured up to our rooms to get a hearty night sleep for our train trip to Bolonge – the gay capital of Italy.

Yes, I will point out the irony here that Zach said a gondola ride would be “slightly gay” yet he was enthusiastic about our trip to Bolonge... I’ll leave that one for you all to muse over ;).

Arrivederci!

Milan and Venice

ZACH BLOG – END OF PARIS, START OF MILAN

5:30am. The time before when Jesus wakes up to start the day off. Matt and I were up, and we made our final voyage to the Blanche metro station, saying our final farewell to the world’s most famous Red Windmill. We jumped on the Metro, bound for Gare Lyon railway station. As we entered the station, we located the ticket office, got our Eurail passes validated, and jumped on our TGR train bound for Milano Centrale. There’s not much to write about this journey, except that the train bypassed some of the most beautiful scenery in the known universe. France’s countryside was reminiscent of the Scottish Highlands, or New Zealand’s Remarkables. In between taking breaks playing music and games on my portable telephony device, I’d look up and gaze in awe at the mountains and lakes, snow capped trees and crashing torrents of huge bodies of water that Australia is severely lacking in. One of the best parts of this journey, to me, is simply seeing water. The cities all have seemingly endless supplies of water, which they use all over the place in fountains and water features scattered throughout their spider webbed streets. The creeks and rivers that flow, know how to flow – and could (and should) teach Australian rivers a thing or two.

While on the train, we had our tickets inspected by a Frenchman, then another Frenchman, then French National Police checked our Passports, then an Italian checked our tickets, then an Italian checked our tickets again. We arrived at Milano Centrale after seven hours on the train. The Italian countryside, in stark contrast to the French, was quite atrocious as we neared Milan. It was like a huge dump. Thousands of condemned buildings scattered the horizon, remnants of World Wars, building waste, and shanty towns. It felt like Papua New Guinea. However, as the train made into the station, the scene changed drastically.

We made our way down about seven escalators to the Milan Underground, also known as the Metro. Luckily, the station we needed to head to (Moscova) was two stops away from Central. Fantastica! Just as I had worked out the ticket machine, some loud mouthed Italian fuck walks over and starts explaining how to work the machine. Being polite I let him work through the motions, then he said “And that’s it, you’re done”. I thanked him, and he walked off. Then he walked back and asked for some money to get to his station. I told him to fuck off. No, I didn’t. Sorry mum. Not in those words, anyway. I declined him the monetary reward he requested. How’s that? We boarded our train, and hit Moscova. There, to our delight, we discovered the hotel was literally a 50 meter walk from the train station. This was, of course, due to our epic planning, and NOT due to total fluke. *Cough*.

We arrived mid afternoon, so we hit the streets in search of treasures and glory. Or, at least, a feed. We found a “ristorante”, which seemed quite decent in pricing (5.50 euro for a lasagne, 7.00 euro for a margarita pizza). We ordered, myself having the pizza, Matt getting the pizza. Just as I was telling Matt that the pricing seemed quite reasonable in regards to Paris, my lasagne arrived, and dead set it would not have fed an anorexic. 5.50 euro is equivalent to roughly $10 Australian. I’d paid ten bucks for a square of lasagne. I polished it off and ordered the pizza as well. Needless to say, after a $24 lunch, I did not eat dinner that night.

We got lost. Or rather, I got us lost. After being the Navigator for much of the trip up to this point, my skills had officially failed. Though I had a map, I just could not orient our way. Matt gladly took up the helm at this point and led us back to the hotel. We threw some TV on, bought a beer from a vending machine, and hit the sack.

Next day we awoke at 8am and headed down to break the fast. Probably the best breakfast so far on this trip. Nothing hot, but a wide selection of colds and bread. Then we headed into town, for a 9:30am city tour. We jumped on the bus, and took off on the tour. First stop was Fort Milan, a fortress that once stood at the top of the town, when it was a walled city (where Da Vinci worked). It was pretty epic. In the part of the fortress where the Lord lived, the stairs leading up to his apartment were wider, so he could fly up there on his horse, Zorro style. Leaving the Fortress, we hit the bus again bound for the Santa Maria Della Gracie church (I think that’s what it’s called) which houses The Last Supper. We walked in through two glass vaults before we were allowed in the Refectory where the painting is. They give you fifteen minutes face time with the painting, before they allow the next small group in. It was amazing standing in its presence. I had no idea that it was as big as it is (it takes up an entire wall). The apostles in the picture are all life sized, as Da Vinci had designed it to look like an extension of the room. I had no idea about the intricacies of the picture – that all the apostles are showcasing different emotions - that John next to Jesus was a mellow biblical character, whereas Peter who is next to John is holding a knife (he was the one that furiously de-eared the guard who grabbed Jesus), and Judas in front of him, I never noticed, carrying the bag of coins he was paid with for his betrayal. The apostles are grouped in four lots of three, three being of course one of the most important religious numbers (the Holy Trinity, etc). Just amazing to be standing in its presence. It was damaged by monks putting a door in underneath it (the kitchen was in the next room, stupid Dominicans), allied bombing during WWII, and restoration efforts of the 20^th century which removed 80% of its colour. The most recent restoration took twenty years! They wouldn’t need to restore it so much if Da Vinci had painted it right in the first place – he painted it in a dry, non-fresco style which took him over three years, when paintings done in the fresco style are meant to be completed within a week. The painting started to decay at 20 years of age. Anyway, it was a great experience.

After we were shafted from the church, we headed to the bus for the Milanese Opera House (La Scalla), one of the most famous Opera Houses in the world. We got to go into a private box to watch a rehearsal of tonight’s performance – was pretty great. The outside of the Opera House is incredibly boring, however it’s still better looking than the concretious turd that is QPAC. Prima Donna such as Maria Callas became famous at this place. After hitting the Opera House, we headed to another Church – Milan’s Duomo, the third biggest Cathedral in the world. It has the most amazing marble facade on the outside, and was the place that St. Augustine was baptised. It is truly a beautiful thing to admire. The inside isn’t as brilliant as St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, but the outside is incredible. Though on the inside, right at the top of the Cathedral’s east end (the most Holy end), there lies a Relic that is said to be the nail that pierced Christ’s right hand on the crucifix, which is pretty cool. At this point in the day, it started to snow. Hard. It was fucking awesome. I love snow so incredibly much. After catching snowflakes for a while, we headed inside the Galleria Vittoria Emanuele II, which is right next to the Cathedral, and investigated some of Milan’s great brands such as Gucci, Versace, and Prada. We looked in all the stores of the high end stuff like Louis Vuitton and Cartier, and the stuff they have is just amazing. Matt bought an epic tie from Louis Vuitton, which he is incredibly proud of. After looking around at the stores, we decided to go to the other main high end section in Milan, the Quadrilatero d’Oro (or Golden Quad). This part of town houses the flagship stores of the brands like Versace, Gucci, Dolce and Gabbana, Mont Blanc, etc. I bought a wallet from Mont Blanc, which I am particularly pleased with.

We trudged home through the sludge that now lined the streets, our shoes and socks drenched with snow sludge, with Matt once again leading the way as I had led us down a street in completely the wrong direction after leaving the Galleria. Now we’re defrosting. Snow keeps falling in the background of my vision, like the negative light you get when you stare at a light bulb then look away.

MATT BLOG – END OF MILAN, START OF VENICE

Buon Giorno! We left snowy Milan at around 7:30am, relieved that we were able to fit in what was probably our best breakfast on tour – with cold meats available with our chocolate croissants and various other breads. We took the train from Milan to Venice, which took almost 3 hours. During that time, an Indian man sat next to us and started making conversation with Zach, whom he took a great shining to. He would regularly talk to Zach and even invited him over to his seat to talk to another Indian friend. He asked about the crisis of Indian students being targeted for violent attacks, which we told him were over-exaggerated by the media outlets. Anyway, this Indian guy took pictures of EVERYTHING – including of us, him getting on the train at a stop on the way to Venice, a picture of him handing the ticket controller his ticket and we took a picture of him sitting down on a seat, keen for the adventure ahead.

We got off at the train station in Venice, and at first the place seemed like a dump. A large sweeping canal going all around the city separating the city. When we eventually found out where we were staying, which was just near San Marco square, we were slightly relieved. But we had to pay 6.50 EU for a boat to take us from the train station to the hotel. When we first found the hotel, we were a little pessimistic as to the state it would be in. When we got inside the reception, it smelt like a used toilet / a regularly used slaughterhouse and faeces processing plant mixed into the one. It would be safe to say it smelt like burnt leathery bacon. Anyway, we walked 200 or so metres to get to the room (which was in the new part of the hotel, and was ages away from reception) and once we got in, it was by far the best hotel that we have stayed in on this trip (save for the Clontarf Castle, but it was up there).

We realised that we had arrived during a popular time in Venice – Carnivale. Everyone wore masks or dressed up in elaborate garments and took to the streets to celebrate a somewhat meaningless event, but fun nonetheless. San Marco square was packed with people and a large display was set up for what seemed to be a big opening ceremony for the event. We had lunch at a restaurant near the area, where a band dressed completely in green were smashing liquor down and starting to play outside the restaurant. They were a big success as people were dancing around, including one kid who looked slightly homosexual as he pranced about the streets while his parents placed their hands over their own heads. This band marched and played for about 100 metres, to another pub where they sat down and drank some more. Later in the afternoon, they had reached another 400 metres or so down the road and were outside another pub trying to play their instruments, but they were quite a lot more intoxicated than before and therefore struggled to keep in time. But the people still loved them and were still dancing along.

We went down to San Marco square to see the opening ceremony thing which was due to start at 7pm. However, nothing was happening and they didn’t look ready to start at 7pm, so we looked around, took some pictures of a guy in an apron smoking a cigarette who was doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING for an hour. When we came back at around 8:30pm, the show hadn’t started and that guy with the apron was on stage doing absolutely nothing. Zach and I were obsessed with this guy, that we regularly took pictures of him going about his chores in preparation for the big event.

Considerably bored, we went home at about 9pm and slept. There’s no wifi anywhere, even though Venice had a big wifi infrastructure put in a couple of years ago. So the only internet we can use is the computer in the hotel reception, where a creepy Indian receptionist looks over your shoulder every 3 seconds to see what you’re doing. Ciao!

ZACH BLOG – VENICE, DAY 2

Ahhh, Venice. You beautifully ugly thing. Contradiction? Perhaps. We awoke this morning to dry shoes and socks (our first for a couple of days, ever since the snow sludging at Milan) that we had dried next to the room heaters during the night. This apartment is exciting as Matt and I each get our own room – Matt claimed the double bed again, and had his suitcase carried to the room for him by the hotel guy. What can I say – the man is better at shotgun. I’m on what’s effectively a couch bed – I thought it would fold out into a double – I was wrong. There’s a TV in my room, true. But it only has Italian channels, and one channel of English movies dubbed entirely in Italian. Oh, there’s something funny I wanted to point out to you – it is HILLARIOUS hearing Italian children talking. “MascerpaROne, Mamma, Si, Si!” It’s funny enough hearing Italians talk, what with all their seemingly unnecessary variations in vocal range during the middle of a word – SpaghEHtti. BelIIIISSIIImo. It is FIVE TIMES FUNNIER to hear the kids do it, with their squeaky voices. God, it makes me laugh.

Anyway, we awoke, and breakfasted in the hotel down the street. Simple continental breakfast, very decent. Then we headed downstairs to use the internet and to post our last few blogs – only we couldn’t use my laptop, because they didn’t have WiFi. Nobody in this country has WiFi. Though they had advertised on the internet they HAD internet that could be used, we could ONLY use it on THEIR computer. So, I put the blogs on a USB and went to their computer – which was behind the reception desk, and was actually the computer they use for all their hotel stuff. The Indian guy was welcoming. At first. After five minutes, he asked me if I was finished yet. Then he proceeded to look over my shoulder every fifteen seconds at what I was doing. He asked me again if I was finished yet, after another three minutes. I said “soon”. He asked me again. By this point I was pissed off, and just said “no”. But then I thought, blow this, I’m not going to give this guy the satisfaction of seeing what I’m doing anymore, and just logged off. Oh, and the computer had no USB port – so I couldn’t even post the blogs. Totally unsuccessful endeavour.

We left the hotel, and decided to get lost walking around Venice. We found a cool church, something in our region of Castello, which had its very own leaning tower. It was less glamorous than Pisa (I guess, we haven’t been there yet) and we weren’t allowed in because it was a Sunday and only church goers are permitted in on Sunday. Rather than attend a service entirely in Italian, we bailed. We walked down the quiet canals of Venice taking the odd photo. Venice’s beauty, in my opinion, is not in the San Marco square where ALL the tourists go (especially at the moment with Carnavale on, but more on this later), but in the random canals that poke past the residential streets. Venice is beautifully ugly, because it’s just a huge dock. If you’ve been to any dock anywhere in the world, you’ll see that it’s a dirty, mouldy, rusty, thing. Water acts on everything if it’s there long enough, and Venice has been here a while. But it’s inexplicably beautiful. I found myself thinking “God, this is like the Venetian in Macau” and then realized that the Venetian was based on this place. Everything was based on this place. The random mashing of different buildings together is a, why, it’s a bittersweet symphony. Thank you, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.

We found the only McDonalds in Venice and it had absolutely free, no-need-to-provide-your-passport-details WiFi. Absolutely free – not just free (That was for you, Shan). We stayed there for an hour and a half using phone WiFi for information purposes, and we will return to use it tomorrow with the laptop hopefully so we can post our blogs.

Leaving McDonalds fed, we accidentally stumbled across a HUGE grand canal armada of singing gondolas. There were thousands of people taking photos, and I somehow got to the front of a large bridge to get some epic shots. It was great. We continued walking around Venice not looking at a map, and then all of a sudden found ourselves on the other side of Venice. It’s a tiny place! It was getting on in the afternoon, and so we decided to head towards home. We walked back through San Marco, however, and due to Carnival that place is a car park. We got to one bridge that was literally not moving. The people on it were stagnant. We walked around and found the same thing on an adjacent canal bridge. Totally lamecore. We eventually made it home.